Blood and Rain
by Dark Arwen
Summary: *L/A slash* Legolas confesses his love for Aragorn, but he doesn't feel the same way. In jealousy and anger, he attacks the one thing Aragorn loves most... Arwen. SEQUEL'S UP!!! Read read read!!! (and review. show the love!)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimers and other nonsense:  Don't know em, don't own em, ain't making money off em so don't bug me.  None of this conforms in any way to the characters in the books… at any rate I highly doubt that Legolas would be such an ass.  But that's why it's called fanfiction, right?  Contains slash, mild violence, lots of angst.  If that's not your thing than don't read this.  "How You Remind Me" belongs to Nickleback.

A/N:  I am constantly reading fics where Legolas and Aragorn fall in love, and Aragorn leaves Arwen for Legolas.  Well, this is a fic where that DOESN'T happen!  Just to be different.  Heh heh heh.  Hey, Feedback Whores love reviews!!!   
  
Notes:  Some Elvish is used in this fic.  "Dina"= be silent,"Mankoi" = why, "Namarie"= farewell, "Mani naa ta?"= what is it?

Also, I was thinking of doing an epilogue piece… let me know what you think.

(curtain up!)

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Never made it as a wise man  
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing  
Tired of living like a blind man  
I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling  
And this is how you remind me  
This is how you remind me  
Of what I really am  
This is how you remind me  
Of what I really am

            He had watched the Man for years. 

            Always from afar, always adoringly.  He loved every single thing about him- the slight curl of his hair, his strong jaw line.  The way he tilted his head when he was curious; the way his hands swung at his sides as he walked.  The beautiful sapphire color of his eyes, as if the sky had somehow congealed and poured itself into the iris.  Eyes that looked at him with love.  Love, but never passion.

            When he thought of those clear cobalt depths, his love turned to bitter jealousy.  

            For those eyes did not belong to him; they never would.  The soul that they provided a glimpse of would never reveal itself fully to him.  The Man looked at him, and laughed with him, and confided in him, but he knew that he would never hear a soft whisper of his name tumble from those already-possessed lips in the darkness of the night.  He belonged, body, soul and mind, to Her.

            _Her._

            How he hated her.  He had liked her once, and she for one did not suspect that he did not return the friendship she offered him. _ Her.  _All that he ever wanted, she held in her hands.  Carelessly, as if she did not know the worth of the treasure she claimed as her own.  

            "Legolas,  Aragorn and I are going riding.  Would you like to accompany us?" Legolas snapped out of his reverie and looked at the woman standing before him  Her.  The Queen.  _The queen indeed_, he thought acidly, _the Queen of Hell_.  Covering his venomous thoughts with a smile, he stood to walk beside her.  

            "Of course, my lady."

            They appeared inseparable to all who saw them, to all who thought they knew them.  The King, The Queen, and The Prince, the best of friends, a picture of perfect camaraderie.  

            "In a past life the King and Queen must have been married, and Legolas was their puppy-dog," members of the court were wont to say as they smiled indulgently.  Rides, hunts, balls, state dinners, Legolas was always on the left hand of the King.  Arwen was always on the right.  The elf longed to occupy her place.

            How long had he felt this way?  It was impossible to tell.  He had loved Aragorn since the moment he'd first seen him, years and years ago.  Even as the Man aged, the feeling intensified.  

            At first he'd been guilty about thinking such terrible thoughts.  _You commit treason!_  His conscience screamed at him, haunting his dreams and his waking hours with the terrible yet true accusation.  He was the godfather of their son… how could he think such things?

            He'd tried to go away for a while, to visit Gimli in the Glittering Caves.  But the separation had proved unbearable, to Aragorn as well as himself.  The King had called him back in less than two years.  "We miss you so," he'd written.  "Nothing is the same without you.  Come home."  How his heart had soared as he read the letter.  Until at last he came to the postscript: "Arwen sends her love."

            _Arwen.  Arwen this and Arwen that._

            Suddenly Aragorn was beside him.  Legolas looked at him, surprised.  The King's muscular form radiated anger.

            "She's impossible!  For the love of Valar, I don't know why I married that woman!"

            "Who… Arwen?" Legolas, hope making his voice falter.  Aragorn noticed the tremor, and passed it off as shock to see Aragorn mad at the Elven woman.

            "Of course Arwen!  Who else?  I cannot take her insolence anymore!"  Slamming his fist into his hand, Aragorn took off down the corridor.

            _Arwen and Aragorn… fighting?  Does it mean that he does not love her anymore?_  He smiled, really smiled, for the first time in an age.  Quickly he ran after Aragorn, schooling his features into an expression of worried concern.

He stood at the door to the throne room.  One moment more and he'd see whether or not Arwen was really all that mattered to him.  Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself.

            Slowly, he pushed it open.  The craftsmanship of the Dwarves was incomparable; it didn't make a sound as it swung wide to reveal the empty hall.  

            "Aragorn?"

            The light thrown from the flames of the torches on the walls did nothing to dispel the gloom.  Legolas walked farther in, his keen eyesight picking up every detail.

            Finally he found Aragorn, almost hidden behind a pillar, off to the right of his golden throne.  Sitting on the steps of the dais, he gripped a half empty goblet in one hand.  With the other he motioned for Legolas to sit.

            "Pah.  Women," he said contemptuously, filling another cup for Legolas and refilling his own.  The elf tasted the bitter liquid and grimaced as it wound its way in a trail of fire down his throat.  Quite strong.  He watched, amazed, as Aragorn downed his glass.  "You know, Legolas, she's my wife.  And yet she angers me as no other…" his sentence drifted off.  Abruptly he changed the conversation.

            "Legolas, why haven't you found yourself a woman yet?"

            _Now or never_, the elf thought.

            "Because I'm in love with someone else," he said honestly.  Aragorn looked at him, shocked.

            "Since when?"

            "Since I first met them."

            Aragorn laughed.  "And I never knew it!  You're a clever one, Elf."  He filled his goblet a third time and sipped it.  "So tell me…"

            Legolas sighed.  "Our love is forbidden."  

            Aragorn's eyes widened.  "Don't tell me you love Arwen?"  he thought for a minute, the alcohol starting to take effect.  "Well, you can have her."

            Legolas turned to him.  "You don't love her then?"

            A quick gulp.  "Not right now, I don't."

            Uncomfortable silence sprang up between them.  _You fool, this is your opening.  Just tell him!  _

            "I love you, Aragorn."

            That flame blue gaze met his own sky-gray eyes, and he looked away, not able to stand the intensity.  

            "I love you too, Legolas," the man said quietly.  Simply.  Not the way Legolas wanted him to say it.

            "No, you don't understand…" Floundering for words in desperation, Legolas found only an action.  He pulled Aragorn to him and kissed him hard on the lips.

            He felt the man's lips part as he kissed him back.  Their tongues battled for supremacy, and it was only the need for oxygen that separated them, and only for a moment.  Legolas's hands tangled through Aragorn's dark hair as he pulled his head even closer.  For so long he had wanted this.  Now that he finally had it he was beside himself in joy.

            Suddenly Aragorn pulled away.  He took Legolas's face in his hands and looked deep into his eyes.  

            "Legolas, I had no idea that you felt this way about me."

            The elf said nothing.  Aragorn thought his heart would break as he looked into Legolas's eyes- so old, yet so young, full of love, hope, and wariness.  

            "Listen to me.  I'm flattered that you think so highly of me.  But I think of you as a brother.  And only that.  I might be mad at her, but my heart belongs to Arwen alone."

            It nearly killed him to watch Legolas fade from joy into a crushing sorrow.  Embarrassed now, the elf pulled away, jerking his head out of Aragorn's hands.

            Tears blinded him as he stood.  One foot placed itself in front of the other as he ran into the shadows, heedless of Aragorn's voice calling after him.

It's not like you to say sorry  
I was waiting on a different story  
This time I'm mistaken  
for handing you a heart worth breaking  
and I've been wrong, I've been down,  
to the bottom of every bottle  
these five words in my head  
scream "are we having fun yet?"  
  


             Cautiously, Aragorn pushed open the door to Legolas's bedchamber.  

            He could see nothing.  No moonlight streamed through the window, and the stars were covered with ominous clouds that had rolled in that afternoon.  No candles were lit; the firewood in the hearth was untouched.

            "Legolas?" he whispered as he took a step inward.  His foot hit something hard.  Frowning, he picked up an empty bottle.

            "Greetings, my King." A disembodied voice flowed out of the shadows, sarcastic and bitter.  

            "Legolas, you're drunk," Aragorn said, carefully placing the bottle on a table.

            "Oh, so you found the first bottle?  Here's the second!" Aragorn felt something pass his head in the dark, and glass shattered against the stone wall.  "And the third!" Another bottle smashed.  "And the fourth!" The sound of glass breaking again reached his ears.

            "You've made your point, Legolas." 

            "Ah, but I've not finished the fifth quite yet!  My lord King, care for a drink?" Legolas moved into the narrow shaft of light from the doorway, holding a near-empty bottle of liquor in his hand.  With a quick movement, he kicked the door closed.

            "Legolas…"

            His sentence was cut off by a hand over his mouth.  He could feel the elf breathing near his ear, his breath hot on his neck.

            "I love you, Aragorn.  I've loved you since the moment I saw you.  But you loved her."  The Man grimaced as he sensed, for the first time, the hatred born of jealousy that Legolas felt towards Arwen.

            The elf knocked him onto the bed, pinning his hands above his head.  

"Legolas, get off me this instant!"  

Aragorn struggled, but Legolas was much stronger than he looked, and the alcohol had only served as fuel.  Reckless as it made him, he did not lose control of his motor skills.  

He'd forgotten how strong Elves were, for all they looked so delicate.  Even a young one was ten times stronger than a man.  And Legolas was thousands of years old, and a warrior besides.  It was easy to forget the strength of the creature that now straddled him.  

"Le-" his protest was cut off as Legolas's lips crushed his own.  Deft hands tied his wrists to the bedposts with soft Elven rope.  A soft strand of long hair brushed his face.  There was the sound of something being swallowed, and then the fifth bottle was thrown to the floor.  

"You are the only thing I want, have ever wanted.  But did you care? No!" the elf ripped open Aragorn's shirt.  "You," rip, "do," rip, "not," rip, "love," rip, "me."  Sharp teeth bit into the tender flesh just above his collarbone, and he winced.  "Damn you, Aragorn."  His hands played over the Man's now-bare flesh.

"Legolas, you're drunk, you don't know what you're doing-" again he was cut off, but this time it was by Legolas's fist connecting with his jaw.  

_"__Dina!"_ Legolas's voice was choked with tears.  

             _"Mankoi, Legolas?"_  The elf kissed him one last time, long and deep.  Tears streamed down his cheeks, dripping onto Aragorn's upturned face.  

            _"Dina, Elessar,"_ he said softly, tying a silky scarf over his mouth.  He spoke in the common tongue.  "I love you, Aragorn.  I can't live without you loving me in return.  If that's how it must be, then so be it."  He gently traced the younger man's face with the tip of his index finger.  "_Namarie_, my love.  I will be sure to convey your regards to Arwen."

            He watched as realization dawned on Aragorn's face.  His blue eyes filled with panic, and the ropes cut into his wrists as he tried in vain to free himself.  Legolas could make out what he was saying beneath the gag- Arwen's name, over and over again, like a prayer.  A soft moan escaped his throat as he heard Legolas pick up his knife and slip it into the sheath on his belt.  Light steps moved away from him, and he heard the latch on the door raise.

            For a moment Legolas stood in the doorway, illuminated in the light from the hall.  His face was a mask of sorrow, tear streaked and pale, his gray eyes stormy.

            _"Namarie,"_ he whispered, and closed the door.

It's not like you didn't know that  
I said I love you and I swear I still do  
And it must have been so bad  
Cause living with me must have damn near killed you  
And this is how, you remind me  
Of what I really am  
This is how, you remind me  
Of what I really am  
  


            Legolas found Arwen in the solarium of the palace.  She smiled as she listened to a story one of her handmaidens, and laughed with the others as it came to an end.  Her spinning wheel sat before her, not ceasing in its endless turning as she spoke.  A trail of red ran from her finger to the spindle, the finest of silken thread.  

            He studied her for a moment.  Her dark hair, braided and coiled around her head, her clear gray eyes, the crimson she held in her hands.  Crimson that matched her Elven blood in hue, which, if he had his way, would soon be staining the stone floor.

            "My Lady Arwen, a word?"  Legolas bowed and smiled slightly.  The Queen laughed and set her spindle aside.  

            "Of course, Legolas.  Shall we go into the gardens, where we can have more privacy?"

            The elf grinned.  "If you wish, lady."

            They walked out into the gardens farthest from the palace.  The path was easily seen with their Elven eyes, though no mortal could have followed it easily in such darkness.  Even the clouds with their imminent storm held no worry for them, for they did not fear the weather.

            Arwen turned off the path into one of the small rose gardens she so loved.  Sighing, she seated herself on a bench, her skirts spreading around her like the petals of a flower.

            _"__Mani naa ta, Legolas?" _she asked in their native tongue.  "What did you want to talk about?"

            With one swift movement Legolas grabbed Arwen's arm and hauled her to her feet.  Before she had time to react, his hands were around her throat and he pushed her to the ground.  Her arms had been flung over her head in a last desperate attempt at balance, and he used one of his hands to pin her wrists together.  He straddled her, holding her in a position not unlike the one he had held Aragorn in a short while before.

            "He loves you, do you know that, you selfish whore?"  He squeezed harder, enjoying the sounds of his archenemy gasping, loving the feel of her writing underneath him in powerless terror and pain.

            He leaned down very close to her.  "So I am going to kill you," he whispered into her ear.  "If I cannot have what I love the most, I can at least take the one thing he treasures above all things."

            Arwen's eyes met his own.  He was surprised to find no anger there, just a deep, unending sorrow and pity.  Her compassion flamed his rage.

            He eased up just a little bit, allowing a tiny bit of air to find its way into her gasping lungs.  Not enough to scream, or to rid herself of the dizziness which was beginning to overwhelm her.

            "Elessar…" she gasped, her eyes rolling skyward.  Legolas watched her silently.

            _I have become a monster_, he thought.  _I would destroy these two, who love each other so much that they would scream each other's name even as they lay dying._

            He could not kill her.  

            How could he hurt Aragorn like that?  Aragorn, the man he loved.  He should be willing to die for his happiness.

It's not like you to say sorry  
I was waiting on a different story  
This time I'm mistaken  
for handing you a heart worth breaking  
and I've been wrong, I've been down,  
to the bottom of every bottle  
these five words in my head  
scream "are we having fun yet?"

            Slowly, he drew his dagger from his belt.  Arwen's eyes widened and then shut tight as she heard the sound.  But she did not scream.  Her hands had ceased trying to break free of his, and now she only trembled.  

            "Arwen, you hold his heart in his hands.  If you ever betray him, I will hunt you down and your pain will never end."  His voice was low and harsh in her ears, and she shuddered.

Gently, he rested the tip of the blade on her face, near her eye.  Applying pressure, he watched as blood slowly beaded along the smooth metal.  He pressed it in even deeper, carefully drawing the point down, over her cheek, along her jaw, down her neck, and along the top of her exposed shoulder.  Deep enough to scar, but not enough to kill.  

Sobs wracked her body but he paid no heed.

"Let that be a reminder of the vows we have made here tonight.  You, to make him happy.  Me, to kill you if you fail to do so."   He raised the knife once more and made a small cut just beneath her left eye.  "For the tears you will cry if you forget," he explained, looking coldly at her now-marred porcelain skin.  Fat raindrops began to fall, turning the blood from red to pink.

Legolas stood.  Arwen didn't move, but lay staring at the sky, blood and rain streaming down her face.  He turned to leave, but a whisper from the ground behind him made him halt. 

_"Mankoi, Legolas?  Mankoi?"_

He did not turn as he replied.

"Because I love him, Undomiel.  Because I love him."

And Legolas vanished into the night.

  
Never made it as a wise man  
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing  
And this is how you remind me  
This is how you remind me  
This is how you remind me  
Of what I really am  
This is how you remind me  
Of what I really am  
  
It's not like you to say sorry  
I was waiting on a different story  
This time I'm mistaken  
for handing you a heart worth breaking  
and I've been wrong, I've been down,  
to the bottom of every bottle  
these five words in my head  
scream "are we having fun yet?"


	2. Gunning Down Romance

A/N:  Well, you wanted it, so here's a sequel.  "Gunning Down Romance" is by Savage Garden.  As always, read and review.  

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**_Love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain_**

**_And feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins_**

In your veins 

**_Love come quickly_**

**_Because I feel my self-esteem caving in_**

**It's on the brink**

**_Love come quickly_**

**_Because I don't think I can keep this monster in _**

**_It's in my skin_**

            Legolas barely noticed the city as he passed, for the last time, through its gates.

            The rain was pouring down heavily now, making the road muddy and slippery.  Fog rose from the fields on either side of him as he headed for the river.

            _What have I done?_

            The question repeated itself in his mind, over and over again.  The alcoholic haze was quickly fading, his anger along with it.  

            The enormity of his act struck him fully as he approached the quay.  He stopped short, letting out a strangled cry.

            _What have I done?  _

            He had attacked Aragorn, wounded Arwen; he had made an enemy of himself, he had committed treason.  

            And what of his people, should they ever find out of his atrocious acts?  Surely they would… Galadriel might have seen this in her mirror already, even from far across the Sea.  He would never be welcome in Mirkwood again, nor among the Elves that remained in Lothlorien…

            A new noise reached his sensitive Elven ears over the driving torrents of rain.  Horns, and dogs…

            Sighing, he jumped off the dock into a light boat, quickly untying the rope that held it to the mooring post.  The small craft moved away from the bank into the deeper, faster flowing water.  Legolas turned to look one last time at the city he had called home for so long.

            He could see figures on the banks now, searching for him.

            "Legolas!" Aragorn's voice reached him, shouting his name over and over again.  

            _I will not cause him any more pain than I already have_.  Stony faced, the elf turned once more to the far bank, before steering the boat so that it was headed downriver.

            From the shore, Aragorn could just make out the tiny boat as it faded into the mist.

            Tears slipped down his cheeks as he turned back towards Minas Tirith.

            The storm broke towards morning.  The rain subsided, turning into a fine drizzle and then stopping altogether.  A fresh wind rolled the mist away, and Legolas watched the dawn from his little boat.

            He could barely remember what had happened- only images stood out in his mind.  Panic in blue eyes, blood trickling down white skin.  He remembered sounds- glass shattering against stone, a woman's crying.  He remembered tastes- someone's mouth against his own, rain that washed away the tang of blood that he could taste on his lips.

            He remembered sorrow.  Sorrow that he had been the cause of.

            Legolas paddled hard.  His arm muscles burned with the effort.  Guilt was a cruel taskmaster.

            The sun moved from east to west across the sky, paying him no attention.  Not once did he stop to rest.

             Far in the distance, he could make out the town that stood on the edge of the inlet.  He would rest there, he decided.  Not for long.  He must reach the sea by nightfall.

**_Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine_**

**_They're morphine_**

**_Cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen_**

**_Rarely seen_**

Love I beg you **Lift me up into that privileged point of view**

**_The world of two_**

**_Love don't leave me_**

**_Because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true_**

**_I really do_**

            Slowly, he pulled the boat up to an unoccupied dock.  He tied the rope securely and walked away.  He knew he would not be needing the boat again.  

            He drew his cloak tightly around him, pulling the hood down to cover his distinctive ears as he headed towards a tavern.

            The common room was filled with townsmen, the only women being the two serving maids.  Legolas didn't have to listen long to hear what the conversation was centered on.

            "They say Queen Arwen was almost killed!"

            "What does the King plan to do?"  
            "They say he sent an Elf after the assassin."

            "If anyone can hunt 'em down, an Elf can!  And he can kill the bastard like he deserves.  I'll have another, Triana."

            Legolas smiled wryly in spite of himself.  Aragorn would give him another chance.  He had known that from the start, somehow.  The King would cover for him until he talked to him, then he would try to find excuses for his misdeeds until things were more or less the way they were.

            Except that would never, ever happen.

            He loved Aragorn too much; he could never live anywhere near him again.  He could never forgive himself for what he'd done to Arwen, yet he still hated her; his knife had changed nothing.

            The serving girl, Triana, he remembered, walked over to the table where he sat in the corner.  She was pleasant enough to look at, with dark blonde hair and merry blue eyes.  He envied her her innocence, wishing with sudden nostalgia that he was young again.

            "What'll it be, sir?" she asked, smiling at him.

            He pulled back his hood just a little bit.  "Just some bread, water, and if you could oblige me, some writing supplies," he said, a soft smile curving the edges of his lips.

            Triana had never seen a face so fair in the lowly tavern.  The man's sad, deep eyes startled her.  _What could have happened to him, to make him so sad?_  She thought as she hurried to fill the man's order.  When she returned the man thanked her with a smile and a gold coin, much more than the food and paper were worth.

            Legolas watched the girl go back to waiting on people.  Was he always to be jealous of someone?  Arwen had Aragorn, this girl had an innocent world, filled with sunshine and flowers even in this squalid waterfront inn.

            Sighing, he turned to his parchment, picking up the quill and dipping it into the inkwell.  The quill hovered, poised above the paper for a moment as Legolas composed the words in his mind.

_Aragorn~_

_            Forgive me.  I know not what to say.  _

_            I ask for none of your understanding or mercy, for I deserve none.  All I ask is that you do not disgrace my father with the truth of my actions.  _

_            I am leaving.  It will be better this way, for both of us.  This will be the last time I contact you.  Tell anyone who asks that I have sailed West- only you and I shall know the truth to that statement.  I am not sailing West, Aragorn.  I cannot.  Not with such blood as there is on my hands.  _

_            I am sorry for everything that I've done.  I wish you and Arwen the best, for the rest of both your days._

_Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle._

_Legolas_

            He signed his name quickly and sealed the letter. 

            An hour later he was once more on the road, heading towards the coast on foot.  His message to Aragorn was well on its way to Minas Tirith, sped along by the five gold coins he had given to the messenger boy.  

            Ancient cart wheel ruts scarred the hard-packed ground, but no one traveled the road with him.  His gaze seldom deviated from the ground just in front of his feet, trapped as he was in his guilt.  When he did look up, he noticed with a start that the sun had already begun to set.  Vermillion, gold, pink, and amethyst painted a dazzling picture against the sky's dark canvas.  Far in the east, stars had begun to glimmer.  Legolas stopped for a moment to admire the sunset before continuing.  He picked up his pace a little bit.  The sea was close now- he could smell the raw salt borne inland on the wind.  

            The land rose gently up, and he ran the last small distance to the top of the hill.

            The sea spread out before him, taking his breath away.  Far below he could hear the roar of the waves as they crashed into the rocks at the foot of the cliff.  The screams of the gulls as they dipped and wheeled was music to his ears.

            Slowly, he walked towards the edge of the cliff, carefully peering over the edge.  It was at least a five hundred foot drop; blood running cold, he backed up. 

            _Has it really come to this?_  He thought, stretching out on the grass and staring up at the sky.  The brilliant sunset had faded now, and he felt a pang of regret that he had not given it his full attention when he had the chance.

**I'm gunning down romance**

**_It never did a thing for me_**

**_But heartache and misery_**

**_Ain't nothing but a tragedy_**

            Drunk on the ocean that lay so close, Legolas lost track of the time as he stared at the stars.  He might have slept at some point, but he wasn't sure; he was too far gone in a waking dream to tell the difference.

            The salty breeze picked up, ruffling the tall sea grasses around him.  His sensitive nose picked up an alien scent, and he sat up, alarmed that he might be discovered.

            No one was there.  His eyes pierced the darkness, but he detected no movement other than his own and the swaying of tree branches against the wind.

            _Do not be afraid.  I will not hurt you_.

            Eyes wide, he looked for the voice he was sure had spoken.  "Who's there?" he demanded, wishing he had his bow and cursing himself for leaving it behind in his haste.

            _I am here, though you cannot see me.  _

            "Who are you?" he asked.

            _I have many different names in many different worlds.  Calm yourself, little one.  I can sense your fear… but I will not harm you._

            In spite of himself Legolas relaxed.  The voice, whatever or whoever it was, was calming; in fact it seemed familiar.  He laid back down, staring once more at the far off stars.

            "Do I know you?"

            An echo of silvery laughter reached his ears.  _You should.  I have always been with you, even though you could not see me.  I was with you when you picked up your first bow, when you had your first kiss; I was with you when you were chosen for the Fellowship, and after that in Rohan and then Gondor._  

            A shiver raced down his spine, but the voice continued.

            _I was with you when you told Aragorn of your love.  I was there, watching, as you dragged your knife down Arwen's face._

            Tears sprung unbidden to Legolas's eyes at the memory.  "I didn't mean to," he said quietly.  "I'd do anything to take it back.  She didn't deserve it."  

            _She didn't, that's true.  But what's done is done, little one.  It cannot be taken back._

            Legolas began to cry harder, not caring now if someone heard his sobs or not.  Somehow he guessed that the voice wouldn't care.

            _You know, now, that you cannot go West, Legolas.  Your laws forbid it._

            "I know."

            _You are not one of my creatures, and our laws are different.  But it is rare I have seen one of the Little Ones in such suffering before.  Even if they kill, it weighs not so heavily on their soul.  _

            "You speak of us as Little Ones.  Why?"  Legolas sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

            _It is what you are._

            "Oh." 

            Legolas took a few deep breaths.  He blinked the tears out of his eyes.  Strangely, he felt calm and peaceful.  

            The voice continued speaking.  It whispered in his ears, it sang above him, winding around him and through him.  He had never heard something so beautiful in his life.  He had stopped questioning it, stopped wondering where it was coming from.  Indeed he didn't care.

            Elves don't die, it told him.  They are bound to the earth on which they walk, and so always exist even if they have no body to live in.  Thus their pain, as well as their happiness, stays with them for eternity.  But sometimes, the rules can be bent a little.

            It would sing, songs in languages he had never heard, lilting melodies he didn't recognize.  

            In the east, the sky lightened.  Once more the roar of the tide assaulted his ears, drowning out even the invisible spirit's song for a moment.  Or was it that the song itself was growing fainter?  He strained to hear it; only to discover that the voice was indeed fading.

            _You know what I offer, Little One.  Only you can reach out and accept it.  _A slight breeze blew against his cheek, and he knew that he was truly alone.

**Love don't leave me**

            The spirit's last words were oddly comforting.  Sitting up, his eyes sought the horizon, waiting for the sun's vibrant rays to cover the ocean in a golden mantle.  He had heard of such a wonder, yet had never seen it.  Now he eagerly waited for it, his first ocean sunrise.

            Legolas stood suddenly, remembering something his father had told him when he was very small.  "Show your respect to the sun.  Always stand to greet her," Thranduil had said.

            A thin line of gold shot over the horizon, and in a few seconds the sun peeked her head above the world's rim.  The sky was riot with ever-shifting colors.

            _Ai, it is beautiful beyond words!_  He thought as he watched the sun's ascent into the heavens.  His normally gray eyes were fiery, reflecting the sky.

            The sun balanced on the horizon, coating the waves with its light, making the sea look as if it were liquid fire and not salt water.  _The sea is filled with the tears of the Elves, that is why they are tied to it so_, the voice had told him.  Vaguely, he wondered if it were true.  

            Legolas took a deep breath.  Slowly, he turned and looked at the woods behind him, the trees that had been his companions for thousands of years, shielding the view of the city he knew lay beyond.  A tear rolled down his cheek as he thought of Aragorn.  His love, whom he would never again lay eyes on.

            Numb fingers fumbled with the enameled leaf clasp that held his cloak on his shoulders.  Carefully, he folded the delicate gray fabric and placed it on a nearby boulder, the clasp on top, where it would be easily seen.  

            "I accept your offer, Spirit," he said softly, and although no one answered, he was sure he had been heard.

**_Take these broken wings_**

**_I'm going to take these broken wings_**

And learn to fly 

**_And learn to fly away_**

**_And learn to fly away_**

            He stepped to the edge of the cliff, gazing down and out at the golden water.  Now or never, he thought, and leapt from the edge.

            He felt as if he were flying.  Amber colored light from the rising sun surrounded him, infused him; if he were indeed falling then he was going to fall forever.  Wind rushed past him, blowing pale blond hair out behind him.  It was a wonderful sensation, falling through warm light…

            The icy water, as he hit the surface, was a brutal shock.  For a moment he wasn't able to move, and the water closed over his head.

            Beneath the surface all was dark.  Salt stung his eyes as he opened them, trying in vain to get his bearings.  He sucked in a lungful of frigid water, sending his body into convulsions as he tried to expel the liquid only to have it replaced by more.

            Gradually his limbs grew heavy.  He stopped fighting the water, and drifted slowly downwards.  His pale hair fanned out behind him, and his silvery eyes mirrored the depths.  

            Abruptly he felt himself pulled upwards, clear of the waves, into the golden light of the sun.  

It was as if he was made of light.  Joy infused him, and he wondered in amazement how he could have existed for so long in such a weak, earthbound body.  Gravity no longer held him back, and he flew through the air like the shimmering golden bird he was sure he was. 

Somewhere off to his right, someone was singing, a song of happiness.  He turned, recognizing the voice as the spirit who had spoken to him before.  He could see no one there, yet he knew that it was hovering right next to him.

            Curious now, he glanced down.  Not far below him, a shape floated, rising and falling with the swells of the waves which carried it.  Long golden hair waved back and forth, framing the pale face, beautiful more so in death than in life.  Expressive gray eyes stared sightlessly skyward, and a gentle smile rested on the lips.  He looked away, not concerned with the object below him.

            _That was my body, wasn't it?_

_            It was.  It matters not._

            He laughed, a rippling sound like wind through the trees.  His companion's essence wrapped around them, laughing with him, never stopping its intoxicating song.

            Before them, a doorway opened up, filled with light that was easily a thousand times brighter than that of the sun and all the stars put together.  Legolas knew he would find peace there.  _Maybe_, he told himself, _maybe one day I'll come back_.

            _Let's go home_, the spirit said, pulling him through the door into Heaven.

            _Then again, maybe I won't.  Goodbye, Aragorn_.

            The door closed silently and swiftly.  In its place, only wisps of pure white clouds could be seen.

I'm gunning down romance 

* fin *


End file.
